Don’t get me wrong. You’re really nice. And interesting! And you’ve always been super-sweet.
But that’s part of the problem. Every time we get together, I have a great time, but– it’s just too much for me right now, you know? It’s like you’re too sweet, too friendly, and I just can’t handle it.
What I’m saying is, it’s not you; it’s me. You’re perfect. Nature’s perfect prepackaged fruit. You always smell good, and you dress really well (I wish I could look that good in a chocolate jacket!). Just think about it– everyone loves you. You get along with anyone you come in contact with! I’ve never seen a fruit salad or dessert where you didn’t just slide in and become the host’s best friend.
And I love to be around you at times like that; you’re the perfect amount of fun. But when we’re alone, it’s too much. You need too much of my attention, and if I’m not constantly thinking about you and your needs, I get the sense that you’re slowing me down. We just get too involved too fast, and it’s too much of you all at once. I end up with a headache, irrational, my blood just caramelizing.
But again, it’s not that I don’t like you. You’re great. Always good for a laugh, especially in cartoons or high-school-movie sex-ed scenes. You know all about politics, and can discuss all the international topics from Argentina to Cameroon. I just think you’re better off with someone else. Someone more ready for you than I am. Someone who can handle your needs and how sweet you are. Someone with a working pancreas.
But we should still be friends. We can get drinks together, see each other at parties– this doesn’t have to mean goodbye. Just that maybe we should see other people for a while, at least until I get a handle on all my issues.
Karmel “My List of Forbidden Fruits is Longer than Your List” Allison